


of broken brain cells, gay spin-the-bottle, and a well-deserved toast to dear obi-wan kenobi

by cyanica



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anakin Skywalker is a Little Shit, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Drunk Anakin Skywalker, Drunken Kissing, Drunken Shenanigans, Drunkenness, Fluff, Gen, Human Disaster Anakin Skywalker, Humor, Jedi as Found Family (Star Wars), M/M, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Party Games, Protective Ahsoka Tano, Spin the Bottle, Tatooine Slave Culture, Tired Obi-Wan Kenobi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:02:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24553573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyanica/pseuds/cyanica
Summary: As soon as Obi-Wan opened the door to Anakin’s quarters, his first response was to immediately close it again. It was too late in the day to deal with the handful of clones, his padawan, and his padawan’s padawan lazed about – smashed off their asses – in a circle surrounding a goon bag as if they were worshipping the thing; and the sad thing was, it was only twenty hundred hours...or obi-wan and cody get a comm: ‘come to anakin’s quarters if you’re one bad bitch.’& anakin is a lightweight and spin-the-bottle happens& fives and rex are gay for each other, no homo& kix is an emotional drunk that worships the goon bag& ahsoka is a good, responsible sixteen-year-old who makes smart choices and we love that. meanwhile anakin, at nineteen, was a dumb bitch with a fake ID...
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, CC-2224 | Cody & Obi-Wan Kenobi, CT-21-0408 | Echo & CT-7567 | Rex, CT-27-5555 | Fives | ARC-5555/CT-7567 | Rex, CT-7567 | Rex & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 18
Kudos: 312





	of broken brain cells, gay spin-the-bottle, and a well-deserved toast to dear obi-wan kenobi

**Author's Note:**

> wanted this to just be humour and then it turned into pure crack. i'm sorry and not at the same time. also the fuck am i doing?! i have a media studies exam tomorrow...
> 
> ive included some australian drinking culture terms, because f me that’s why. a ‘goon bag’ is a bag of cheap wine, but in this case, it’s a bag of 501st moonshine (the other drink names are from galaxy’s edge tho). ‘pissed’ (not just an australian thing) means ‘drunk’ too.
> 
> the tatooine slave culture parts and anakin’s name meaning comes from fialleril’s headcanons. i don’t own any of that.
> 
> some of the dialogue is inspired by tiktoks. lmao. ps shout out to my gf who came up with some ideas as well, love u bb.
> 
> p.s i don’t know what the legal drinking age is in sw, but i'm just gonna make it 21. ahsoka is a good, responsible sixteen year old who makes smart choices and drinks non-alcoholic beverages only. we love that. anakin, at nineteen, is a dumb bitch with a fake ID...
> 
> tw: there is a slight comment about suicidal ideation, but this fic in no way about that, despite literally all my other fics being top tier angst. i didn’t tag it as such, so it wouldn’t be misleading, but this is just a little warning, so i don’t surprise anyone. also language. i know in sw they use ‘kriff’ and whatever, but i just decided to use real profanity. i guess adultery too(?), but then there are hints at aniobidala anyway. doesn’t matter, it’s all crack, nothing is real!

As soon as Obi-Wan opened the door to Anakin’s quarters, his first response was to immediately close it again. It was too damn late in the day to deal with the handful of clones, his padawan, and his padawan’s padawan lazed about – smashed off their asses – in a circle surrounding a goon bag as if they were worshipping the thing; and the sad thing was, it was only twenty hundred hours.

He really, _really_ didn’t want to know – didn’t want to know why clones were screaming ‘chug’ with the almighty power of a war cry, nor why Anakin (so help him gods) was downing a bottle of Force-knows-what in record time, nor why Ahsoka (Obi-Wan wanted to strangle the person who put Anakin in charge of a _child_ – oh wait) was recording it all on her holocamera. 

Cody, not nearly as shock-inducingly paralysed as his Jedi general (to the point where it was _alarming)_ , was actually smirking underneath his helmet. Obi-Wan couldn’t see it, but he could _feel_ it like a firework amongst this shitshow of a picture, and suddenly wished for nothing more than to be objected into the void of space from where he stood. 

_Force, please, just this once, I beg you._

“Master!” Anakin beamed, noticing Obi-Wan’s presence after a full minute of making a show of hurdling the bottle across the room, and then falling stomach-first into a heap of absolute-smash-Anakin within Ahsoka’s lap from the momentum. “You got my comm!” 

Yes, indeed Obi-Wan _did_ get a comm, and it went something alongside the lines of ‘come to Anakin’s quarters if you’re one bad bitch. Skyguy out.’ The words were so slurred and garbled that he was thinking Anakin had messed with his commlink while doing meaningless repair works on various mechanical objects, but sadly no, the truth was far more migraine-inducingly chaotic and absurd.

He tried to ignore the message in the same way he had when his dear padawan accidentally (or at least he _prayed_ it was an accident) sent him a literal three hundred hour booty call.

( ** _disappointment_** _: im bored,,, u wanna come ovr and do smthg? aka me lmaoo ;) ;)_

**_disappointment:_ ** _shit, sorry, master! that was not meant for you._

**_disappointment_** _: unless? ;)_

**_jesus_** _: im blocking u anakin_ )

...Yeah, what happens on Coruscant stays on Coruscant, or so their unspoken, unofficial rule dictates. The same also applies to just about every planet and sector of space they’d ever set foot in.

Meanwhile, Ahsoka, now possessing the full weight of the so-called ‘Chosen One’ in her lap, turned her head upside down to see the door, and (rightfully, in Obi-Wan’s mind) shoved her master to the floor unceremoniously. “Idiot! Are you trying to get us court-martialled?!” 

“What?” Anakin protested, sitting up in some undignified, un-Jedi-like way that had Obi-Wan rolling his eyes. “I sent out invites to all my bad bitches, and Obi-Wan Kenobi is indeed a badass bitch!” 

That was Anakin’s only explanation, and it had Obi-Wan, well, turning bright red and unsure if he should scold his former-apprentice for literally _everything_ , or if he should smirk because, well, he _was_ kind of blushing at the unorthodox compliment. 

_Ahem_.

“Do I even want to know, or should I pretend like _this_ –“ he gestured to the rest of the room who were completely out of their minds. “–never existed?” In all seriousness, he wasn’t sure he would be able to forget Fives slut-dropping on Rex, or Kix drunk-crying in the corner, or Echo chugging his drink with a vigor that put Anakin’s attempt to shame, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t sure as _hell_ going to try. 

“I think that would be for the best, sir. We’re so sorry.” Kix wept, knees brought up to his chest, and gods, at this point this whole shitshow was just pathetic and sad. 

Although… Obi-Wan couldn’t help but wonder with villainous curiosity and self-indulgent interest–

“What even is _that_ ?” He gestured to the goon bag in the middle of the circle, lying there as if it were a sacred religious artifice. And, okay, _maybe_ he was lying to himself if he said he didn’t want a drink, sue him. He fucking well deserved one after this mess.

“501st moonshine brewed by the boys, sir.” Fives reported, thankfully now leaving space between himself and Rex, which was partly only due to his attentive stance and salute towards Obi-Wan.

_Oh my gods_.

“Tastes like the way wanting to die feels. You’ll love it.” Anakin pitched in, gleaming with that huge, shit-eating grin and suddenly Obi-Wan had post-traumatic flashbacks of a nineteen-year-old padawan who ‘celebrated his super-duper secret epic bachelor party’ with a fake ID and a dozen body shots of T-16 skyhopper juice.

Obi-Wan sighed verbally, the exasperation of three years of wartime and thirteen years of _Anakin_ showing on his face. 

“I think it’s pure ethanol…” Ahsoka added, scrunching up her face and looking quite disgusted. Obi-Wan realized that perhaps she wasn’t actually drinking the stuff – or at least not the moonshine – and suddenly gave her the most amount of internal respect he’d probably given anyone for solely being the only sane one in this sad, appalling fiasco.

Cody hummed beside Obi-Wan, to which the Jedi raised a skeptical eyebrow towards his own commander – not for the fact that the illicitly brewed moonshine was at _least_ eighty percent ethanol (of that he had no doubt), but rather the fact that Cody seemed quite content and unbothered with whatever _this_ was. 

“Ah, yes. That stuff’ll have you screaming war cries, running rampage, and renouncing your own allegiance to the Republic before the sun comes up.” Cody started factually, the hint of ‘ah, the good times’ on his lips, and Obi-Wan just turned to look at him like the commander had lost his brain. 

“Excuse me?” Obi-Wan was trying. He really, _really_ was. But he was pretty sure that _this_ – not the war, not the corruption, not the Sith – is what had him lose faith in their galaxy.

“Uhhhh…” Cody rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, now noticing that he had everyone's attention on him. His brothers were failing terribly with flying colours at hiding their laughter, while Anakin and Ahsoka were just as intrigued to hear what probably would be the most blackmail they’d ever possess in the near distant future. They were like sewer rats, and that was probably the nicest thing Obi-Wan could say about them. “...Not that I‘ve ever done that, General... _Ahem_.”

“Smooth.” Anakin nodded smugly, saluting, and raising a new drink in a now-you-get-to-suffer-Obi-Wan’s-wrath-good-luck toast. The other’s all raised their respective drinks too, and mourned their fallen brother, who had just lost all of Obi-Wan’s respect.

Obi-Wan sighed for what must have been the hundredth time, courtesy of the drunken ensemble. “You told me the lunatic screaming ‘for the republic!’ and fighting the mouse droids at three hundred hours was a shiny having a psychotic breakdown.” he said, looking back at Cody with a half-shocked, half-disgusted look on his face that had Ahsoka snapping holos at for later. Blackmail purposes, obviously, though who for, Obi-Wan wasn’t sure.

“Hey, at least one of those was true.” Rex chipped in, and gave Cody a not-so-discreet thumbs up at the ‘help’ Cody motioned for through desperate hand signals that went ignored.

Anakin rolled his own eyes (he had no _right–_ ) and shrugged like this was the most normal thing in the world. “Anyways, so what, Master? We get shitfaced on the reg to stifle the unimaginable trauma of death and war. Just c’mon and join us, ‘cause Force knows you need it.” 

Obi-Wan felt his brain cells literally die before he even stepped into the room – but he was sad to report that he sure as hell _did_ willingly step into the room. “I might just take you up on that offer to stifle the unimaginable trauma of dealing with _you_.”

“That’s the spirit!” Anakin cheered, raising his drink in a toast to the sky. The others followed suit and the room became a loud chorus of drunken ‘woooo!’s at Obi-Wan’s initiation into the party. 

* * *

By the time Obi-Wan was feeling less like a babysitter and more like an adult who could actually enjoy himself if he wanted to, his former-padawan could not speak a single intellectual sentence, nor stand without screaming ‘the world is sideways!’. Obi-Wan half had the thought to force Anakin into his bed and strap him to it, but the other half of him was slightly devilishly evil and wanted to see the point at which Anakin couldn’t deny the fact he wasn’t drunk anymore until he was passed out. 

The latter won, and Obi-Wan couldn’t even find it in himself to feel bad.

Anakin just about tripped over Kix – who was still rocking on the floor, though this time hugging the goon bag to his chest, again, as if it were the holiest thing in the world. 

He was Anakin Skywalker, everybody: a man-powered by sheer egotistical recklessness as a Jedi, suicidal euphoria from insane tactics on the battlefield, and had years of emotional trauma to repress, who was now currently drunk enough to want to fight all the deities and gods of the universe, or die trying.

“Believe it or not, that’s only like his third drink.” Ahsoka mused as she herself sipped some fruity concoction the men called a Carbon Freeze and swirled it around in her hand – no doubt a sophisticated mimic of Obi-Wan Kenobi swirling wine when they went to visit Padme and her _very_ expensive collection.

Not that Anakin himself would even admit to such outrage, but the boy was in fact a major lightweight, and this 501st moonshine was no joke. Another drink or two of the stuff, and Anakin would either be off the walls or passed out against them.

“Oh, believe me. I am very aware of that.” Obi-Wan sighed, again having very real, very vivid post-traumatic flashbacks of a still-painfully-underage appearance ‘celebrating his top-secret, super-duper epic wedding anniversary’ – apparently with not only Obi-Wan, but his own padawan, a handful of other Jedi and clones. Padmé didn’t even bat an eye. 

He did not know why they even acted like they were anything but complete lovebirds these days. Another mystery for another time. Tonight, Obi-Wan drank. 

* * *

“And how was that, sir?” Fives asked Anakin after handing him a shot of nothing but pure water, because sometimes it wasn’t about the shot he wanted, but the shot he needed. Obi-Wan wholeheartedly agreed. 

Anakin, barely keeping his eyes open, made a lazy attempt at the ‘okay’ hand symbol, and said with oblivious happiness: “ _Devine._ ”

The clones snicked, and Obi-Wan almost felt bad for his padawan. _Almost_. 

“That was water, Master.” Ahsoka clued him in smugly, taking the glass from his hand.

Anakin’s face was quite comical in a way that reflected utter betrayal, but also an enormous amount of pride. “Oh, the _deception_!” He said, as if he had single-handedly uncovered a massive plot to destroy all life as they knew it. His expression then turned to that of arrogant pride, and looked at Ahsoka like she was suddenly the best and worst person in all existence. “I raised you well, Snips.”

* * *

“You did what?!” 

Fives, oblivious to Obi-Wan literally having an aneurysm, continued the way one might if he was merely glossing over the night-watch report. “The 104th we’re talkin’ shit ‘bout the boys in blue, so we blew up their quarters, sir.” 

Cody, who was also very unaware of this fact, reacted in a completely opposite way and was fist-bumping the 501st members as if they hadn’t committed a highly treasonous civil crime against their own army. “You absolute mad lads.”

“That was reported as a Separatist attack!” Obi-Wan exclaimed. The thought that the bombing of Master Plo Koon’s troop barracks was not, in fact, the result of a bomber droid infiltrating the base, but instead a prank war turned up to the extreme max between the battalions had _not_ crossed his mind. But, however, in all loving fairness, should it have?! Is this what the world has come to?! 

“It’s _fiiiine,_ General,” Echo drawled out, breaking Obi-Wan out from his internalized hysteria. None of them truly seemed to realize how close the older Jedi was to absolutely losing it. Maybe Obi-Wan would just have to blow up their own army here and now, just to make a point about _not blowing up their own army_. “No one died.”

“That we know of.” Ahsoka added helpfully – but that was just even worse, and it was even _worse_ that they didn’t even _know_ it was worse. 

If there ever was a time to commit mass genocide against them all, Obi-Wan Kenobi decided it was now. _Force_ help him –

“Do you have _anything_ to say for yourselves?”

Silence.

“Uh, that no one is gonna call us the ‘Simp Five-Oh-Thirst Lords, again?” Rex answered, knowing that Obi-Wan’s question was entirely rhetorical (or if it wasn’t, that _definitely_ wasn’t the right answer).

Obi-Wan almost didn’t want to ask, but: “what the hell is a Simp Lord?”

The other’s all shared knowing, infuriating smirks towards each other like having some idiotic unspoken conversation that he was not privy to. Ahsoka, after communicating through sheer eyebrow-raising and sly nods with the clones, suddenly shifted her devilish gaze (one picked up straight from her master -- a skill that was definitely _not_ on the padawan learner curriculum) and tipped a slight nod and her glass towards her master. “Him. He’s a Simp Lord.”

The cherry right on top of this crazy fucking cake was Obi-Wan’s reason to drink, casually leaning up against the wall with a look of unapologetic cockiness (or a facade of innocence) painted across his face – like he hadn’t yet chosen which persona to go with, for maximum chaos inflicted towards Obi-Wan.

There Anakin Skywalker was (apparently now dubbed a ‘Simp Lord’), who nonchalantly slipped on a martini. 

* * *

“You know your name sounds like a droid’s, _Oh Bee One._ ” Anakin said bluntly, interrupting a most ‘pleasant’ conversation the clones were having about banging either Ventress or Grievous if they had to pick one. So far, Cody was the only one on team Grievous and to that, all Obi-Wan had to say was that he was a very, _very_ brave man to want to pick Grievous. 

(“You gotta be fuckin’ insane to wanna hit that, man! He’s a droid!”

“Isn’t that, like… _illegal_ in some parts of the galaxy?”

“Yeah, I agree with the Commander; and I don’t think Grievous has the… _facilities_ for that, my guy.”)

Obi-Wan threw a casual glance back at his wayward apprentice who was leaning against Ahsoka – or maybe they were both leaning on each other, he really didn’t know. “You are one to talk, Anakin. What precisely, my young padawan, is a ‘sky walker’?”

The clones turned their heads in interest, yet Anakin simply scoffed as if the name ‘Skywalker’ was the most common sound in the galaxy. “Someone who walks on the sky, obviously! It’s a Tatooine legend, you uncultured noona! The story of how a dude named Ekkreth literally freed all the slaves!”

He continued on his little drunken rant, that had the rest of them truly intrigued. “'Anakin' also means 'the one who brings the rain', and restores Tatoonie back to an oasis, rather than the godforsaken dustball that it is. Guess that's supposed to be me, but, hey, what's another prophecy, am I right?” 

Anakin shrugged non-committedly, and cockily smiled to the rest of the men who each raised their drinks and started chanting, “Chosen One! Chosen One!...” like an incantation to the gods. 

_Force_ , what was this night?

Ahsoka eyed them all, but turned to Obi-Wan. "Should we be concerned about the effect of unachievable standards, unrelenting societal/self-pressure, and the resulting peer alienation which could develop into serious mental health issues – if they haven't already – because of these so-called prophecies?" Ahsoka muttered, visibly concerned.

Obi-Wan made a non-committed noise, and drank. “We're Jedi. We don't do that here."

“Wait, wait, wait…” Echo said, and the rest of the chanting died down. “You’re named after a person who literally walked the sky?” Even through however many drinks Echo’s had at this point, his brain cells still seemed to be connecting things. A miracle if Obi-Wan had even seen one. “You chose your own name?”

Anakin looked like the man had gone crazy. Clones could choose their names, so why couldn’t slave boys and their mothers? “Um, yeah. Why not? Can’t have a dynasty without a name.”

Ahsoka groaned, shoving Anakin away with revulsion at the thought (“Hey–!”). “Oh, gods. A Skywalker dynasty.” 

Obi-Wan could see it now: “The end of the world as we know it.” 

It was silent for way too long than it should have been, until Captain Rex, bless the man, broke the atmosphere with three very strange words: “Can I join?”

“Rex!”

“What?”

Anakin practically _glowed_ at the request. “Fuck yeah, you can join, Rex Skywalker! You too, Echo Skywalker, Five Skywalker, Kix Skywalker, Cody Skywalker, Ahsoka Tano-Skywalker, and Obi-Wan Kenobi-Skywalker --”

“Yeah, no thank you. I’m good.” Obi-Wan cringed, and reverted back to his _fancy-schmancy_ Bespin Fizz drink (Anakin’s words, not his), and wished desperately that mind-bleach was a thing, so he could forget those words. 

“– as long as no randos who dub themselves a Skywalker join, just ‘cause they wanna sound like badasses and continue the epic dynasty, when in reality are unworthy of the worthiness of walking the sky and only take on the name because is sounds cool, therefore disrespecting their true teacher -- who _hypothetically_ could be an Organa -- or disregarding a major never-before-seen ‘dyad in the Force’ spiritual partner bullshitery -- who _hypothetically_ could be a Solo --- which results in the fuckin’ up of the whole Skywalker legacy. If that doesn’t happen, then our clan will be vibin’.” 

“So glad that won’t happen.” Ahsoka agreed and Obi-Wan wondered what happened to his own brain – if perhaps it had just committed seppuku after that speech, or all of this was some fucked-up fever dream. Maybe he was dead and this was the afterlife – no doubt one of the nine Sith hells. It was quite disheartening to know that despite his efforts to be the perfect Jedi, he had ended up _here_ , but was he truly surprised? _Gods_ , no.

“And also,” Anakin added. “In this hypothetical dystopian, even worse, future where _boom:_ the balance that I brought back suddenly becomes _un_ balanced, I should be mentioned at least once, ‘cause ya know, Chosen One, the original Skywalker, beginning of the legacy et cetera, et cetera.”

A collective ‘yeah’s and dazed agreements sounded, all looking non-committedly into the air, unaware with reality, and not really giving a shit in the slightest about how many brain cells Obi-Wan just lost by listening to that entire thing, or about how close they all were to being locked in an insane asylum forever.

“Kix passed the goon bag, please.” He said simply, and was definitely not opposed to using lethal force at this point if the clone medic did not comply.

* * *

“I do _not_ condone this.” Obi-Wan voiced as the bottle spinning in the middle of the circle came to a halt right in front of him. By some sick will of the Force, they just _had_ to play spin-the-bottle, and of course Anakin’s spin pointed directly at him. Of _fucking_ course –

Anakin suddenly came inches from his face, knocking the bottle back to Rex who was destined to play next, and looked at Obi-Wan as if this was but another challenge that he had to prove himself in -- or perhaps _wanted_ to prove himself in, more than anything. “Condone this, virgin.” 

And yep – those were Anakin’s lips on his. Anakin’s lips. He tasted like his own solar system in some weird, majestic kind of way and had a distinct sensation to him that was unlike anything he had felt before – because, no, Anakin, despite his outward perfect Jedi exterior, Obi-Wan Kenobi was very much _not_ a virgin, thank you very much.

It was a little like kissing the stars, hot and burning and feverish radiating from a presence so significant, but familiar in a way that he had and will always know. Maybe this all really _was_ a fever dream.

The cheers from the rest of the ensemble erupted at the sight of the two generals kissing within their drunken haze, and yet the sound brought Obi-Wan back into sobriety almost immediately. Anakin, who was on top of Obi-Wan as they fell backwards during the heat of the moment, came crashing down on top of him. The only thing Obi-Wan could do in that moment was curse Anakin’s name and vow never to let illegally brewed 501st moonshine from the godawful goon bag see the light of day again.

“ _Anakin_!”

Anakin, for about the first and only time in his life, was rendered completely speechless, as he flopped off his master and onto the floor. Ahsoka waved her hand in front of his face amusedly and watched as his mouth curled into the smuggest and prideful smirk the dude could muster. After that, he kind of just… stayed there.

“General, I think you broke him.” Echo said to Obi-Wan, simultaneously wrestling with Kix for the goon bag that was still clutched to the other clone’s chest as if it was the meaning of life itself. Rex and Fives, on the other hand, had started their own spin-the-bottle game, except without a bottle… or any other members besides the two of them...

“Bold of you to assume I was not already a flaming pile of banthashit, human disaster to begin with.” Anakin replied finally, dazed in a way that only he would be after three drinks, but endearing nonetheless. 

“You stand corrected, Echo.” Cody snickered, slyly watching the red rise in both the generals’ cheeks that wasn’t _all_ the fault of the alcohol.

“What are you gonna tell Padmé ‘bout this, Skyguy?” Ahsoka asked, taking on the personal mission of consoling a sobbing Kix after the goon bag had been violently ripped from his clutches, and was now being chugged from by Echo. She’d solely become the designated flyer (without a ship) of the group, based purely on her unfortunate age alone, but that didn’t seem to upset her. Instead, she seemed to take on her new role of babysitter as expertly as anything else, and Obi-Wan was sure if Anakin knew anything about what was going on in his current situation, he would have wept in pride. 

Obi-Wan really wished he had the power to make her a Jedi Master right here and now.

He really couldn’t say the same course of promotion could be applied to any of the others, most of which were chugging their own drinks, or more accurately, drinking straight from the goon bag itself, if not making out with each other so ferociously they couldn’t breathe -- yes, he’s talking about Rex and Fives.

Clones could _really_ seem to drink. 

“Nah,” Anakin replied surely, and sat up ( _no_ , that would be generous. correction: leaned the entirety of his weight into Obi-Wan). “Padmé’s a real one. She’d be dtf in a threeway. Plus no homo – doesn’t count if you’re wearing socks.” He said factually, and at that point, Obi-Wan felt all his brain cells completely shat themselves and die the way Anakin’s sanity had. 

Even still, he tried again to find it in himself to be disgruntled, saying, “your logic never fails to impress me. I’m suddenly regretting every choice I’ve ever made since you became my apprentice.” But in reality, this was a perfectly imperfect kind of moment.

He definitely deserved that fucking drink (or ten), though.

Now, for all that was holy in the universe, pass Obi-Wan the goddamned goon bag.

**Author's Note:**

> no im not sorry.


End file.
